


Practice Makes Perfect

by greygerbil



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 07:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9538451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/pseuds/greygerbil
Summary: Chirrut spent time diligently training while Baze was away on a journey for the Guardians. On their first night back together, he shows him the new trick he learned.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a kinkmeme prompt that wanted Baze to be so big he never experienced deep throating before, but Chirrut shows him the light.

“How does a blind man sneak into someone’s chamber?”

Baze tugged the hair-band from his wet strands. After returning from his journey, he had first gone to the hot springs in the temple gardens. Alongside the other travellers, he had washed away the dust of the road and tried to drive the icy night out of his bones. As he had soaked in the hot water he’d been longing for on the way, though, he had already considered how he could leave as fast as possible and get to Chirrut’s room without drawing too much attention.

As he so often was, his lover had been one step ahead of him and now smiled at him from where he sat on his bed.

“Very easily. Footsteps echo on the temple walls, so I avoid those of others and take off my own sandals first.”

When they’d been children, Chirrut had always managed to join him at night as well. The initiates had all slept together in one room on small bedsteads and somehow, even with the supervisors watching, Chirrut had sneaked all across the room to creep under Baze’s blanket and whisper with him until they fell asleep. Their overseers had never been able to be truly displeased when they found him there in the morning.

Now they were men long grown, true Guardians of the Whills, and they didn’t sleep in large halls with other initiates but had their own chambers. If Chirrut had never needed a light to find him in the dark back then, Baze supposed it made sense he didn’t need his eyes to do it now. Baze had given him a reason for renewed nightly visits when he’d finally managed to work up the bravery to kiss Chirrut after getting pinned in a sparring match. Chirrut accused him later that he had done it just to gain back the upper hand, which wasn’t true. It had simply been a very pleasant bonus.

Of course, these days it would rightly not be thought of as the charmingly innocent affection of a child when Chirrut ended up in his bed. It was wise to be a little cautious around their stern and traditional fellows since relations with a brother or a sister were not officially allowed. Many things could be and were done behind closed doors, but tolerated only if some attempt at disguise was made to calm the moral guardians’ conscience as they sedulously ignored it.

“That pilgrimage to the outer villages took too long,” Chirrut said, taking Baze’s hand when he sat down on the bed with him.

“The will of the Force must be shown to the people there as well.”

“Undoubtedly, but they got to have you for a fortnight and I did not.”

Baze made an undefined sound at Chirrut’s hint of blasphemy, only to hide that he liked it when Chirrut employed it to underline how much he wanted him. His friend knew him well enough not to need the encouragement.

There were footsteps outside in the hallway and Baze saw Chirrut turn his head to the door, tracking them habitually. He used his small moment of inattention to grab him quickly and pull him in for a kiss. It was infernally difficult to surprise him, so he had to take his chances.

Much as Baze was devoted to their cause, he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t wished Chirrut had been with him. Since childhood, he was used to his company and conversation, and during the nights, he now newly missed him as well. Baze had never been chaste – the code did not demand it of them –, but no one had ever quite ruled over his mind like Chirrut did. Every night he found himself hard in his tent thinking about the way his body moved against him and the little sounds he couldn’t quite swallow breathed into Baze’s ear, the touch of his hands which could be tight and possessive or gently exploring and his mouth smiling against Baze’s skin.

His tongue pushed into Chirrut’s mouth as he bent his head back, leaning over his lover. As Chirrut put his arms around Baze’s neck, he was laughing at him.

“I see you missed me, too,” he said, between Baze’s hungry kisses. “Parts of me.”

“Not your smart mouth,” Baze lied.

“Would it help if I employed it otherwise?”

The way Chirrut breathed the words against his ear made a thunderbolt race through Baze’s core. Reflexively, his arms tightened around him and he growled a wordless agreement as he kissed his neck, then moved down, parting the dark robes Chirrut wore.

Where his skin was uncovered during the day, Baze left no marks, but under the fabric of his robes Chirrut would usually sport at least a few bites and bruises. Chirrut liked to complain that Baze was like a dog with his favourite bone, but when Baze latched on now, he breathed out hard, running his fingers through Baze’s hair.

“Baze, you have beaten every monk in this temple in the practice room, and everyone is well aware you are not looking to share me. Is this necessary?

The others knew, of course, even if they did not say. They would have been fools not to see it.

“I like looking at these marks and you don’t have to see them,” Baze said and kissed him on the mouth again.

Raising an eyebrow, Chirrut kissed him back, his fingers already on Baze’s belt. The fabric pushed out of the way, he pulled Baze’s manhood out of his undergarments.

“I don’t see this, either, but I feel it very well.”

His thumb rubbed along the head of Baze’s cock. He was already thick and hard in Chirrut’s hand, the thought of his mouth and quick hands enough to make all the blood rush from Baze’s head downwards. He loved the way Chirrut looked crouched before him, his muscular back shifting as he positioned himself.

Some men had size, others had girth, Baze had been blessed with both in abundance. Chirrut could use his two hands and not cover the whole length of him and when he grabbed him firmly, the tips of his fingers encircling Baze’s manhood could only just touch his thumb. Truth be told, Baze thought a little less would have been better. Most of the people he’d taken to bed had seemed downright intimidated in the first moments. Not Chirrut, though, who’d run his fingertips down his cock and placed a kiss against the heated skin. “I see I have a lot to work with,” he’d joked.

Chirrut bent over Baze’s lap to drag his tongue along his cock. Leaning back, supporting himself on one hand, Baze put the other on the nape of Chirrut’s neck. Chirrut began with feather light touches of his lips, little flicks of his tongue, then breathed out on the wet trail of spit his tongue had left, making Baze shiver.

Thanks to his size, this, handjobs or Chirrut taking him was usually how sex worked for him. Attempts had been made to change it up with others, but Baze hated looking down at someone whose face was twisting in discomfort to accommodate him. He’d not even tried with Chirrut yet, much too in love with all the clever tricks he’d already figured out to push for something else, like how he hungrily sucked in the head of Baze’s cock while his hands moved fast over the base or the way his tongue would mould around him. Often, he would turn his eyes up to look at him even though he could not see him and Baze found himself in serious trouble to keep himself from trusting into the mouth that looked so inviting stretched around his cock.

His lover did not make him wait tonight. Baze huffed out a deep breath as Chirrut bobbed his head up and down, his warm mouth engulfing him inch by inch, then pulling back, tongue pressed flat against his cock. He took him in so deep that Baze could feel himself rub against the soft palate in the back of his mouth.

“Careful,” he breathed out, licking his lips. He’d lie if he’d say Chirrut’s eagerness did not make his blood boil.

He closed his eyes for a moment to revel in the feeling when suddenly, he felt the head of his cock glide in further, sinking into Chirrut’s throat. His eyes flew open to stare down at him, but Chirrut was fully concentrated on his task, shifting and straightening his neck. Slowly, he lifted the fingers that were holding Baze and instead, he pushed his head down once more.

“By the... Chirrut, you don’t need...”

During meditation, practice or prayer, Baze’s willpower was unending, but now he couldn’t even conclude his sentence. Every push of Chirrut’s head forced him deeper into his throat, the tight, soft walls pressing down on him. He moaned, letting his read roll back.

One hand still rested on Chirrut’s hair, but his lover took his wrist and pulled it downwards, to his throat. Under the skin and muscle, Baze could feel the slight shift of himself moving inside Chirrut. A curse none of his fellow monks would have thought pious Baze capable of escaped him. Involuntarily, he felt his hips twitch upwards to meet Chirrut, but even that could not deter his lover. He grasped on tight to Baze’s thigh with one hand, holding his head still for him to thrusts into the welcoming warmth.

Baze had never felt himself stumble towards the edge so quickly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a last whisper of reason told him not to choke Chirrut, so seconds before he came, he took his head in both hands and pulled him off. His lover came up with a gasp, his face red and saliva dripping down his lower lip, mouth still invitingly open.

“Close your eyes,” Baze bit out, giving himself two last strokes. His breath stuttered as all the heat pooled in his stomach.

His seed landed on Chirrut face, running down his cheek, over his mouth. Chirrut’s tongue snaked out briefly. As Baze’s breath slowed, he tried to memorise the image for the next time he would spend lonely nights in his tent.

“I think you liked it,” Chirrut said, self-satisfied.

Snorting, Baze picked up his robe and wiped Chirrut’s face clean before he kissed him. His lips were still wet and tasted a touch like salt.

“Where did you learn to do that?” he rumbled.

Chirrut ran his hands through Baze’s damp hair.

“I may have practiced while you were gone.”

“On whom?” Baze asked as he pushed him down onto the bed, his rough possessiveness all play. There was no mistrust of Chirrut in him; if he could be sure of one thing in life, it was his loyalty. Gently, he eased his hands under his clothes, noticing Chirrut was half-hard and squirmed a little when he touched him through the fabric, still holding him close with one arm.

“You know the purple roots Sister Re’wan plants in our gardens, the ones from her homeworld?” Chirrut interrupted himself with an exhale as Baze took him firmly in hand. “When they’re full-grown, they are as thick as a small branch and reach deep into the earth. She always claims they taste great, so I asked her if she would give me one.”

Baze pressed his lips to Chirrut’s forehead, chuckling at the picture in his head. “Went through that trouble just for me, huh?” he asked. “You should have let me watch.”

“In the beginning, it did not look quite so effortless as it did today, so you may count yourself lucky you missed the display,” Chirrut answered with a grin.

Baze shook his head. That Chirrut had choked himself with Re’wan’s bitter roots just to practice pleasuring him was sweeter than it had a right to be. However, Chirrut didn’t let him dwell on the thought. He wound himself out of Baze’s embrace and straddled his waist.

“You should help me practice for my next goal,” Chirrut said, with a wicked smile, as he took Baze’s hand once more and dragged it so it covered his backside, his fingers brushing between Chirrut’s cheeks.

Even after his long and arduous journey, Baze was happy to prepare for a night with very little sleep.


End file.
